


Keep On Truckin'

by ozonecologne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Misunderstanding, Paramedic!Dean, babysitter!cas, just a little blood, meet cute, nobody's hurt I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozonecologne/pseuds/ozonecologne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's a paramedic, Castiel's a terrible babysitter, and they're both getting way too old for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep On Truckin'

The fire house always got chaotic when a call came in – people running around to grab gear and slam lockers and shove chairs out of their way – but the moments between calls could be just as full of activity. Groups of firemen playing cards on the table and betting with cigarettes like they were sharing a freaking prison cell, chatting on Skype or somebody’s cellphone to the worried wife who hadn’t seen her man in over forty eight hours, cranking music and just relaxing with a snack, trying to take a nap in the back room.

It was kind of like a frat house, Dean imagined, with guys being dudes and getting dirty and swapping war stories and swearing at each other all in good fun, rowdy and noisy.

And even among all the noise, that faint crackle over the speakers had the potential to shut it all down.

Any one of them could pick up the faint click of the speakers before a call came in, just before an alarm went off. Such a soft noise, just a pop of static and dead air, but it was something each one of them learned to identify and respect.

The crackling came in at 2:00 on a sunny Thursday afternoon. The computerized voice began to hum, and everyone dropped what they were doing to turn and listen.

“ _Pedestrian/motor vehicle collision – 3 year old girl hit by a truck…”_

Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach dropped to somewhere around his knees.

It was such a nice day; it seemed even more unfair than usual that such a terrible thing had to happen, when the sun was out and the guys were all in such a good mood.

Dean hated the kiddy calls. None of those little bodies were meant to be so twisted up and broken, hurt and cold and scared. More often than not it was the parents’ fault that something happened to that little kid. Dean wanted to see every single one of them locked up, but that just wasn’t how it worked most of the time.

He was moving on autopilot, getting situated in his seat in the back and choking down panic.

As a paramedic that worked with the fire department, Dean had seen a lot of awful shit - plenty to fuel some anxiety-laced speculation on the case he’d be working today. His imagination was spinning, zooming down the parkway with the lights and sirens going, preparing himself for the horror. How much of the little girl’s blood would be spilled all over the asphalt? Skid marks on her tiny legs? How many broken limbs would he have to set, or would it even matter?

He was glad he wasn’t driving. He might have been sick later, depending on how this call went.

They arrived on the scene even before the ambulance. It was a cute little blue-gray house with a green lawn and a tire swing in the front yard. A small body was slumped under the tree, and a man was hunched over her, pressing a fluffy white towel to her forehead. She was crying, Dean could hear her wailing from the truck. Sad as that was, it was actually a good sign.

Her lungs still had air in them, and that was something to be grateful for.

Dean jumped out of the vehicle and dashed over, heart still racing. “Hey, hey, you alright? What’s happening?” he fired off, already crouching to take a look at the little girl.

The man holding the towel to her forehead looked up, startled, as if he hadn’t seen Dean coming at all. Like he had forgotten he’d even needed the paramedics when his little girl was probably bleeding out at his feet. “Oh, good, you’re here,” he said, a little shakily. “There’s a lot of blood, I didn’t think it would bleed this much…” he added, dabbing at the girl’s face again. A drop slid down into her eye and she squealed a little, whimpering and rubbing at it.

Dean nudged the man out of the way and started inspecting her legs, barking as he did so, “Well that’s what happens when you get hit by a truck. What the hell were you thinking man, letting her play so close to the road?”

Benny and Ruby were rushing over with the stretcher, and the man in the blood stained – was it a rugby shirt? Some hideous striped thing – frowned. “Hit by a truck? Is that what they told you?”

Dean frowned too and gingerly wiped at the girl’s face again. “Yeah – did it happen over here? Did you move her at all?”

The man’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Well I suppose that’s not _entirely_ inaccurate. My niece, Claire, threw her toy truck at her head.”

The girl at the base of the tree whimpered pathetically, and Dean froze. “You tellin’ me she got hit by a matchbox car?” he asked slowly. 

The man looked nervous again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called. It’s just – it’s a head wound and she’s so young, I was worried about the bleeding,” he said.

Dean blew out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and stood. “Christ – guys, hey, pack it up. Girl’s fine.”

Benny and Ruby, looking nervous, halted simultaneously. The man stood too and walked over to them to explain.

God, as relieved as he was, Dean was pretty pissed off. Who did this guy think he was, sending Dean into a panic like that? _Kid needs a juice box, not an ambulance_ , Dean thought angrily to himself.

He offered his hand to the little girl on the ground. Despite his frustration, he would never EVER be short tempered with a kid, and a hurt one at that. “Come on, honey. Can you stand up?"

The little girl, not wanting to disappoint the nice paramedic, took his large hand and allowed herself to be hauled up to a standing position. There was some blood flecked on her nice sundress, and Dean tried to smile encouragingly at her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The little girl sniffled out, “Tanya,” and Dean smiled a little wider.

“Well, Tanya, I think you’re going to be just fine. When the ambulance comes, they can take you to the doctor to get your head looked at. How’s that sound?”

Tanya nodded, and the man in the purple stripes wandered back over. She dashed to him immediately, wrapping her arms around his knees and crying into his shins.

The man looked horribly uncomfortable with the display. “Please don’t,” he mumbled while the little girl smeared blood and snot and tears all over his jeans.

Dean chuckled a little and smacked him on the shoulder. Poor guy was probably a new dad, stressed out and worrying too much. “Just take her to the hospital, man. Worst case scenario is that she’ll need a couple stitches. And tell that Claire kid to cool it,” he said.

The man smiled again, small and secret, as the sound of sirens echoed in the near distance. “She’s a lovely girl, but she does have a bit of a temper.” He sighed and tilted his head skyward in exasperation, resting a palm on the top of Tanya's head. “I just hope I don’t get fired for this.”

“Don’t tell me you’re the nanny,” Dean teased. He discreetly eyed the guy up and down while he waited for a response. He was kind of hot in like a dorky way; the purple striped long sleeved shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, threw him off at first, but Dean did take a moment to appreciate the light wash torn jeans, baby blues Dean could drown in, crazy hair he wanted to pull on. Not Dean's usual type - the dude was wearing  _Birkenstock's_ for God's sake - but he definitely had a little something going on. 

The man shook his head, looking distressed. “Absolutely not. I’m not… equipped to deal with children. But I promised my boss Nora that I would watch her daughter for her while she’s out of town at a sales meeting.” He threw a weary look at the blue house behind him. “I thought taking her over to my brother’s house would be better than my apartment, since he has a daughter around her age she could play with. Obviously that was poor decision making on my part.”

The ambulance pulled up to the curb just as Dean finished laughing. He clapped him on the shoulder again and shook his head. “Better luck next time, Fran.”

The man tilted up the corner of his mouth in an amused little smile. “I prefer Castiel,” he said, and – wait – was that a _wink_ he sent Dean’s way?

Dean blinked, completely thrown off, and the ambulance personnel were shoving him out of the way to collect the little girl before he could even respond. Castiel was heralded into the ambulance along with Tanya, and Dean was left standing dumb on the sidewalk.

“Winchester! We got calls to run, let’s _go_!” Ruby shrieked from the driver’s seat.

A little blonde girl was sitting on the front porch looking sullen. _Must be that truck-throwing brat Claire_ , Dean thought. He waved nonetheless, and Claire waved back. Then he hopped in his truck and left.

Sure, he was used to getting flirted with on the job, but something that overt from someone otherwise so reserved had Dean shaking in his seat.

He really, really wanted to see Castiel again. Put that wink to the test.

 

It was really embarrassing and he definitely shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, but Dean showed up at Castiel’s brother’s house with a tiny pot of lavender.

Castiel himself pulled open the door, but he looked… wrong. His hair was combed down, he was wearing khakis and a cardigan. His eyes weren’t quite as bright. He frowned like he’d never seen Dean before in his life.

“Can I help you?”

Even the voice was different – it was a lot less gravelly than Dean remembered, and Dean tried not to laugh. “I think I’m looking for your brother. Castiel?”

Not-Castiel smiled. “Oh, sure! I’m Jimmy, Cas’s twin.”

Dean shook his hand with his free one, hoping to not draw too much attention to the plant he stupidly bought at the nursery down the street. Jimmy told him, “He’s at work right now, but he should actually be stopping by afterwards if you don’t mind waiting,” as he took his hand back, and eyed the plant with a little humor in his gaze. “Or you could just leave that here. I’m sure he’d appreciate it one way or another.”

Dean’s cheeks flamed red. “No, um, it’s actually for… Tanya. I’m one of the first responders and I – Oh, hi, Claire.”

The girl peering around the banister nodded at him. “Winchester,” she greeted civilly, remembering the lady paramedic calling out for him after the ambulance had pulled away.

Jimmy looked very confused. “Oh, right, the… accident. I wasn’t actually home for that one.” He turned to shoot an accusing look at Claire, who shrugged with shame and darted her eyes away. “Come on, come in, let me call Cas for you.”

Dean back pedaled. “No, really, that’s ok, I just – I could leave it here, right? Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, ready to shove the plant into Jimmy’s hands.

Jimmy stifled a laugh. “How about I just give you his work address, Mr. Winchester?”

“Just Dean’s fine,” he said, shifting his weight. “And yeah, I’d like that, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

Jimmy scoffed and went off to find a notepad and a pen, and the moments Dean spent waiting for him to come back were riddled with tension as Claire sized him up.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” she asked at last.

Dean hesitated. “Yeah, a lot of them.”

“Cool.”

“Not really,” he said.

Claire shrugged again, and Jimmy came back with a yellow notepad. “Here’s his address. If you head on over now, you’ll probably catch Nora there – Tanya's mom – and you can give the flowers straight to her,” he suggested, smiling as he handed over the address. “That’s really nice of you to do, Dean,” he said cheerily.

Dean nodded and tried not to blush again. “Nah, kid just looked really scared, so I figured – I don’t know. Thanks for the help, Jimmy.”

“Any time, Dean. Claire, say goodbye.”

Claire smiled like she had a secret. “See you later, _Dean_.”

 

Castiel – Cas, Jimmy called him – worked at the Gas-N-Sip on the other side of town, about 45 minutes from the firehouse. He was wearing a collared shirt rolled up to his elbows, unbuttoned at the top again, and Dean tried not to drool at the sight of tanned forearms and a smooth throat.

He walked in and the little bell rang, and Cas looked up from the crossword puzzle he was doing at the front counter. He dropped his pen the instant their eyes met. “Oh. It’s you,” he said.

Dean couldn’t get a read on any emotion from him; the remark was merely an observation and didn’t convey any strong feelings in any one direction for him.

Dean was sweating already.

“Um, hey, Cas. How’s Tanya?” he asked.

Castiel smiled a little bit and nodded. “She needed three stitches, but she’s perfectly alright otherwise. Claire has apologized. I was assured the blood loss was mostly harmless.”

Dean matched his smile. “Yeah, head wounds bleed like crazy. But keep ‘em clean and they heal right up.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “I, um, brought this for her, from the unit,” he said, sliding the tiny pot across the counter. “We’re all thinking of her.”

 _I’m mostly still stuck on the fact that you winked at me,_ Dean didn’t say.

Cas softened and took the small planter in both of his hands. “Oh, thank you. I’ll deliver it to Nora when she’s back in; I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

Dean shoved his now empty hands in his pockets. “Hope you didn’t get in any trouble for maiming her kid,” he teased.

Cas blushed a little. “Nora was very understanding about the whole thing, but I don't think I'll be babysitting again.”

“Ha. Good.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long, awkward moment. Dean’s entire being was screaming at him to ask the guy out, but he didn’t get the chance before Cas tilted his head and murmured, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I ever got your name.”

Dean blinked and felt the laughter bubbling up in his chest like a reflex. “I’m Dean,” he managed to say past his giggling. “Winchester. And I was kind of hoping you’d let me take you out to dinner.”

Castiel grinned, wider than Dean had ever seen, and nodded. “I’d like that very much, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr!](http://ozonecologne.tumblr.com)


End file.
